


Slave of None

by ArgentSleeper



Series: Episode AUs [9]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e06 A Servant of Two Masters, M/M, Major Character Injury, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:23:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentSleeper/pseuds/ArgentSleeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Too many things aren't lining up for Arthur after he gets Merlin back from the mercenaries.  His shoulder is miraculously healed, he won't tell them anything about what happened, and his behaviour is wildly erratic.  Arthur has some guesses of his own as to what happened, but he could have never predicted this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slave of None

**Author's Note:**

> This episode is the bane of my existence. On the one hand, I love it more than air, and Merlin is the most adorably incompetent assassin ever. On the other hand, IT DRIVES ME UP A FLIPPING WALL. There was so much potential for a brilliant plot line, maybe making it darker or stretching it over two episodes. But like all things, if you want it done right, you have to do it yourself.
> 
>  
> 
> (If you want to request an AU, leave a comment or send me a message on LJ)
> 
> Upcoming AU Fics:  
> Kamikaze sequel (The Drawing of the Dark)  
> The Coming of Arthur (pt. 2)

 

Arthur didn’t want to let Merlin out of his sight again once he found him.  Even when he insisted Merlin bathe in the river before so much as touching the horses -though he'd had no problem earlier with doing any touching- he would not turn around as he usually might to give a bit of privacy (not that it mattered as Merlin simply jumped in clothes and all).  He could not risk something happening again.  He'd barely left Merlin's side for a minute before and even that had been long enough for the mercenaries to capture him.  It would not happen again.

He regretted they didn't have any spare clothes for Merlin to change into.  That had been the last thing on Arthur's mind when he charged out of the castle that morning to search for his friend.  Merlin would just have to settle for his damp and slightly smelly smallclothes and Arthur's jerkin. They could wrap him in a cloak to keep him warm and a bit more modest for the trip.  The only thing they had brought in plenty were bandages.

That brought Arthur back to another one of his worries the past few days.

He strode forward, "Merlin, wait a second and we can cut your tunic off."  There was no way between the bog and the river water that Merlin didn't have an infection, but that would have to wait until he saw Gaius.  For now Arthur could at least help him get the worst of the dirt out.  In fact it was amazing Merlin was able to stand under his own power.  He'd been practically unconscious when Arthur last saw him.

Merlin cocked his head and gave him a strange look.  "Why? I like this tunic."

"I'll get you another one," Arthur rolled his eyes.  "You shouldn't lift your arm."

"My arm is fine.  See?"  Merlin raised both his hands high in the air.

Arthur winced and sat to struggle out of his boots, intent on binding Merlin's arms to his sides if he had to.  Then Merlin whipped off his tunic and Arthur froze.

Arthur had seen the damage done to Merlin's shoulder.  The flail had torn through skin and certainty cracked if not slightly crushed his collarbone.  It had been a bloody mess even after Arthur attempted to clean it up a bit.  Despite his teasing, he'd been unsure if Merlin was even going to live, let alone use his arm again.

But now Merlin's shoulder was completely unblemished.   Arthur didn't even think he could see a faint scar.  It was like he'd never been hurt.

"How-"

Merlin's gaze slipped to the side, and he lost a bit of his confidence.  "The bandits had a sorcerer.  He healed me."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.  That was unusual.  In his experiences mercenaries didn’t care about the comfort of their captives.  The only explanation he could come up with was they’d needed Merlin alive for something.  He shuddered to think what.  Thank goodness Merlin had been able to escape.

“I’d still rather you didn’t move it too much.  At least until Gaius has taken a look.  Who knows what that sorcerer could have done to you?”  Who knew what any of them could have done to him?  Arthur was doing his best not to think about it.  He would let Gaius take care of Merlin first and then if Merlin wanted to talk to him about it –which he sincerely doubted– he would try to be open.

There were some things he needed to know now, though.  The mercenaries wouldn’t have just left, and there was no way _Merlin_ had killed them all.  If he had overheard anything while he was with them, especially the name of the person who hired them or where they had gotten their information, it was vital that Arthur know.

While Merlin dressed, Arthur cleared his throat and prepared to question him.  Gwaine stopped him with a hand on his arm.  “I know what you’re thinking, Arthur,” he said quietly, “but maybe give him a bit?  If Merlin knew anything worth telling he would have said something already.  At least let him have a rest before you go interrogating him.”

Arthur knew Gwaine had a point, but it still gnawed at him.  There was a traitor in Camelot, and the less information he had, the longer it would take to root them out.  And it was this traitor who had led to Merlin’s injury and capture; Arthur couldn’t let that go without punishment.

“Fine.  He can have the night.  But I will have to talk to him eventually.”

“Good man.”  Gwaine raised his voice.  “Right then, Merlin.  Up on my horse with you.”

“What, finally learned your lesson about drinking and riding?”

For a brief moment Arthur was taken aback.  Sure, Merlin teased him and the other knights all the time, but his voice had never held such a hint of actually _meaning_ what he said before.  He shook it off.  Gwaine was right, he needed to give Merlin some time.  “Just get on the horse, Merlin.  I’d like to get back to Camelot sometime today.”

The sooner they could put all this behind them the better.

 

* * *

 

 

Reluctantly Arthur handed Merlin over to Gaius when they reached the castle, letting the old man envelop his ward in a hug and shuffle him away to his chambers.  Merlin had been quiet the entire trip back, choosing to brood on his horse rather than answer any of Gwaine’s chatter.  Arthur wasn’t too worried.  Merlin often went through quiet periods; he always came out of them eventually.

At least, he wasn’t worried until Merlin came to his chambers for midday in a snapping fury that Guinevere had taken over his duties for him so he could rest.  Arthur had never in the five years he’d known him _ever_ heard Merlin speak to the poor girl like that.  He didn’t even appear to be in the least contrite about it, glaring at them the entire way out of the room.

“He didn’t mean it, Guinevere,” Arthur hurried to assure her.  “He’s had a stressful few days.”

“I didn’t mean to make him feel like he’d been replaced,” she moaned.  “I just wanted to help.”

“He knows that.  Merlin knows I would never replace him.”  He _did_ know that, didn’t he?

Guinevere’s frown deepened.  “You don’t think he heard about George, do you?  Maybe he thinks you gave up on him and hired someone else.  You should talk to him.”

“I didn’t hire George!  I just woke up and he was- he was just _there_!  I’m not going to coddle Merlin just because he gets a bit jealous.”

It hit Arthur then.   _Of course_.  No wonder Merlin had been so bent out of shape!  He was jealous of Arthur’s relationship with Guinevere!   _“Well, you would take her side, wouldn't you?”_  Arthur shook his head and smiled to himself.  Apparently it was time to show Merlin there was simply no reason to feel that way.  Not when Arthur couldn’t possibly care more about Merlin if he tried.

“Don’t worry, Guinevere.  I’ll deal with it when he comes back for the knighting ceremony.  And I’ll make sure he comes to apologize to you, if he doesn’t do it himself before then.”  Which Arthur was sure he would.  Guinevere was Merlin’s best friend (other than Arthur, of course).  He probably felt terrible about his treatment of her already.

His good mood was shattered soon after when he was forced after lunch to confront his uncle about the possibility of him being the traitor.  Arthur simply didn’t see any other logical options.  Not that the thought of Agravaine betraying him made any more sense than some old lord who had always like his father more than him.  It _did_ make more sense than Agravaine’s suggestion of Gaius, however.  Merlin had nearly been killed by the mercenaries.  Gaius loved Merlin like a son.  He would never let that happen.

But Merlin didn’t die, because the mercenaries healed him…  And then they allowed Merlin to escape…

No.  Arthur wasn’t going to let the idea fester.  Obviously he just wasn’t looking hard enough.  It was probably a servant.  Servants could come and go unnoticed, trusted by their masters to keep secrets enough that they were talked in front of about the most private of things without worry.  Gods only knew the amount of things Merlin had overheard, if not had said directly to him, over the years.

Choosing to set the matter aside for now in favour of other things, he set off towards his chambers to get ready for the knighting ceremony.  He was already running behind, which meant Merlin would be on his way soon.  Sometimes Arthur wondered if it actually might be best to get a new, more _servile_ servant.  Just so someone would at least see that things were done as they should be.  He didn’t want to get rid of Merlin, certainly not.  But if a bit of Merlin’s time was free to serve Arthur in more… _intimate_ ways, Arthur wasn’t going to complain.

And he was now more confident that Merlin wouldn’t either.

Arthur nearly smacked into Leon as he rounded a corner.  The shaggy haired knight was grinning to himself even as he stumbled back.  He immediately tamed his face when he saw who was in front of him.  “Sire!  I apologize, I wasn’t looking.”

“It’s fine, Sir Leon.  Did the training go well this morning in my absence?”

“Yes, sire.  I, uh, I’m very glad that you found Merlin.”  Then, oddly, he winked.  “Though, pardon me for saying, it didn’t take long for you to get him riled up, did it?”

Arthur winced.  “You noticed, did you?  I hope he didn’t take his poor mood out on you, too.”

“Oh no,” Leon laughed.  “I think he’s reserving it just for you.  He was in the armoury with me a few minutes ago.  He wanted my help looking for a crossbow so he could kill you.”

He rolled his eyes.  “And did you manage to find one?”

“Of course, sire.  I’m sure he’s back in your chambers now, ready and eager to begin.”

“I shall be sure to gird my loins.”   _Really, Merlin?  Plotting my death with my knights now, are you?  Very mature_.

Merlin was fiddling with the wardrobe when Arthur came in.  No crossbow was in sight.  Not that Arthur had been expecting to be met with a bolt to his face when he opened the door, but he’d half thought it might be waiting for him on the table, a symbol of Merlin’s annoyance.

“Merlin, excellent.  We need to talk,”  he said cheerfully.

Merlin, apparently, still wasn’t in the mood for cheer.  Or talking.  “You need to get ready.”

“I have time.  I wanted to talk to you about Guinevere.”

“Have you lost the ability to dress and talk at the same time?”

Arthur sighed.  Of course Merlin wasn’t going to make this easy.  In an effort to appease him, he went to the pile of clothes behind the dressing screen.  He began to strip off his soiled clothes.  “I’m just trying to tell you.  You don’t have to be worried about Guinevere.  She’s no threat to you.”

“If you say so,” he replied hollowly.

“She could never replace you, and certainly George couldn’t even come close.  But I might one day hire another servant –merely to help you out.  You could have more days off, perhaps go visit your mother or help Gaius.”

“I’m sure those days will come soon enough.  Are you getting dressed?”

Arthur came out from behind the screen, unable to hide his exasperation.  He wasn’t getting it!  How thick-headed could the man be?  “Merlin, I’m the king.  I may be late, but it’s not like they’re going to start without me.”

“That’s no reason to be rude.  Get dressed.”

“Perhaps I could do that better if someone hadn’t forgotten to grab my belt!”  Merlin raised an eyebrow but made no move to fetch it.  “Fine!”  Arthur stomped over to his wardrobe, still shirtless.  Hand on the knob, he turned to look suspiciously at Merlin.  “By soon enough, you don’t mean you want to quit, do you?  You can’t _quit_ , Merlin.  You may be incompetent, but you still work for me.  I get to decide when I want to sack you.”

He fetched his belt without tearing his eyes away, noting that Merlin flinched harshly as he did so.  Right, maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say.  Gods, this conversation was not turning out the way he wanted it to!

“I’m not going to sack you, Merlin,” he said more gently, closing the distance between them.  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, I would never want to sack you.  I want… I want you to…” He trailed off, staring into Merlin’s heavily conflicted eyes.  “Merlin, I just want you.”

Arthur leaned forward and pressed his lips against Merlin’s, wrapping his hands around Merlin’s neck to pull him closer.  But as he prepared to nudge Merlin’s lips apart to delve deeper into the kiss, he noticed that Merlin had frozen, not responding to his advances even the slightest bit.  Arthur immediately pulled back.

“I- I’m sorry.  I thought-  I’m sorry.”

Arthur rushed from his chambers without another word, leaving Merlin still standing stiffly in the middle of the room.

He was such a _clotpole_.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur didn’t expect Merlin to show up the next day.  He expected to have to already make good on his suggestion to hire George full-time (a shudder-inducing thought on its own) or worse, have to find Merlin and grovel until he deigned to come back.

But there Merlin was when Arthur opened his eyes the next morning, tossing open the curtains and dumping another bucket full of hot water into the nearly full bath.  He wore the same agitated half-smile from yesterday, though his eyes narrowed when they made contact with Arthur.

“Your bath is ready,” he announced hollowly.

“What, no breakfast?”  Arthur attempted to joke.  It fell flat as Merlin chose to ignore him, testing the water with one hand as Arthur had seen him do a thousand times before.  “Right.  Thank you, Merlin.  You didn’t have to do this.”

He went behind the screen to undress again, not wanting to be caught under Merlin’s accusing gaze anymore.  It shouldn’t have gone like that.  Arthur had been so sure!  Maybe Merlin thought Arthur was just saying he loved him out of pity?  Or maybe… Arthur shuddered.  Oh gods, what if when Merlin had been taken…  Arthur was an idiot.  He should have thought of that earlier!  Quickly he pulled his shirt back on and made to duck back out into the room.

And promptly froze.  Merlin was pouring something into his bath, a powdered substance that made the waters froth and bubble.  Occasionally Gaius would send up powders and oils for the king’s bath, medicines meant to ease his sore muscles or sooth a wound.  But Arthur had never seen the water react like that.  What had Merlin put in there?  Merlin tossed aside the empty bottle and picked up Arthur’s sword.  A smile Arthur had never seen before crawled onto his face then, cruel and vindictive.  Merlin dipped the sword into the water and stirred it about like a spoon.  The smile grew, terrible and cold, as he pulled what had once been perfectly crafted metal from his concoction.  The sword looked like it had been eaten by acid.

Arthur dove back behind his screen, praying Merlin hadn’t seen him.  What was going on?  What was Merlin doing?  He couldn’t mean for Arthur to touch that, could he?  Merlin would never do anything to hurt him!  No matter what Arthur had inadvertently done.

_“He wanted my help looking for a crossbow so he could kill you.”_

No.  No, it wasn’t possible.

“Sire, your bath is getting cold.”

Think, think, he had to think!

Arthur poked his head out.  “Ah, right… Well, you see, I’ve decided not to have a bath today.  Conserving water.  Don’t want to start another drought.”

“But this water is already poured,” Merlin pointed out, cruel smile replaced with bland annoyance.  “I can’t very well put it back.  You may as well use it.”

“Of course… You can use it!  I mean, once I go down to training, you can stay here and take a bath yourself.  That river wash can’t have gotten all that mud off you.  It’ll be relaxing.  Yes, you should use my bath.”

The corners of Merlin’s mouth rose as if attached to rusty hinges.  It hurt Arthur’s heart to recognize now how fake his actions were.  “Thank you, sire.  I will go fetch your breakfast.”

“Actually, Merlin!” Arthur said quickly.  He needed to find some way to contain the servant for a moment.  Else he might have to fend off poisoned food next.

_“Do you know how long it took me to prepare this meal? I cooked it myself.”_

“Yes, sire?”

“Could you please fetch my cloak from the antechamber first?  It’s a bit brisk.”

Merlin quirked an eyebrow at that, and Arthur honestly couldn’t blame him.  With the fire from heating the bathwater still permeating the room, it was actually nearly _too_ warm.  Though that could have been a side effect of Arthur’s current nerves.  For a moment he thought Merlin might refuse to go, which the normal Merlin certainly would have.  But eventually he moved towards the antechamber.

“It’s back in that chest there.  The blue one, that I wore last winter.”  As he spoke, he quietly grabbed his keys quietly from his desk.

As soon as Merlin was far enough away from the door, Arthur grabbed the handle and yanked it shut.  Quickly he locked it, wincing as Merlin began to try to pound it down.  “I’m sorry!” he called through the wood.  “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

Merlin began shouting back, and Arthur could barely listen past the first few sentences as he heard the exact same anti-Pendragon, pro-magic rhetoric he’d heard a hundred times from sorcerers who’d come to kill him.  He didn’t even notice tears had begun to fall until he tasted salt on his lips.  Arthur put his back to the door and slid helplessly to the flagstones.  How had this happened?  Could he have really been so wrong in his trust?

The door to his chambers burst open and Gaius and Guinevere came tumbling in.  They paused at the sight of Arthur crumpled on his floor.  “Sire!”  Gaius put a hand to his chest, puffing a few heavy breaths.  From the same winded look on Guinevere’s face he guessed they had run here.  “We were just looking for Merlin.  Has he been here?”

“He’s in there,” Arthur answered hollowly, pointing behind him.  The two drew closer and Arthur could tell when they were able to hear Merlin’s angry screams.  “I thought he was my friend.”

“Arthur, he _is_ ,” Guinevere promised, kneeling down beside him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “Something happened to him.   Gaius says he’s been enchanted.”

Arthur looked up at Gaius, eyes full of hope.  “You’re sure?”

“Yes, sire.”  Gaius’s eyes were sad, and Arthur distantly hoped it was for Merlin and not pity for him.  “Yesterday we removed a fomorrah from Merlin’s neck.  It’s a serpent used by the High Priestesses to control their victims’ minds.  Whatever Merlin has done, it is because someone else instructed him to do it.  He has no choice in the matter.”

“A High Priestess… you mean Morgana?  But how did Morgana get a hold of Merlin?”

“We never did find out who hired those mercenaries,” Gaius pointed out.  “My guess is they brought him to her and she sent him back here with orders to kill you.”

“But- you said you removed this… snake thing.  What’s wrong with him now?  Is it like a delayed effect?”

Gaius shook his head.  “There are rumours… they say that if you cut off one head of the beast, it will simply grow another.  I thought that only applied to the mother beast, but the spawn must work that way as well.”

“What, you want to just keep cutting into him for the rest of his life?  How long does it take to grow back?  How do we _fix him_?”

“Sire,” Gaius raised a hand to stem the flow of questions.  “I only just recently encountered proof this creature is more than a myth.  You must give me time to research.”

“What about Merlin?”  That was Guinevere, whom Arthur had nearly forgotten was there.  “We can’t just let him roam free.  He might hurt someone.”

 _Someone meaning me_.  “We’ll put him in the cells.  He can’t harm anyone if he’s locked up.”

Gaius didn’t look so sure, but he nodded reluctantly anyway.  “I may be able to sedate the creature, enough to give Merlin control back for a while, though not permanently.”

“Why can’t you just keep sedating it?”  Arthur asked.  He would tie the poultice to Merlin’s neck if he had to.

“Because the dose would be low enough to only affect the fomorrah for a few times, but eventually it would start to affect Merlin as well.  It’s far too risky to medicate him so often.”

“We’ll think of something.”  Guinevere stood and went to the door to the corridor.  “I’ll fetch Percival and Leon.”

“What?  Why?”

Guinevere smiled kindly and a bit sheepishly at him.  “Because I’d rather not see him knocked out for a third time and Gaius and I aren’t strong enough to hold him.”

Arthur was about to protest that _he_ would take care of Merlin, thank you very much, but then he remembered: Merlin wanted to kill him.  Of all the people Arthur had ever thought he might have to fear one day, Merlin had never been one of them.  The knights turning against him, an army of lords usurping his throne.  Why, it had even passed his mind for a moment yesterday that Gaius could turn evil and attempt to give him poison disguised as a sleep tonic.  But Merlin?  He loved Merlin.  And he thought…

Wait.  If Merlin had been under the curse of this snake yesterday, then that meant it hadn’t been the real Merlin Arthur had kissed.  It was the imposter.  Which meant there was still hope the real Merlin cared as much as Arthur did!

Percival and Leon arrived, worry furrowing their brows.  Leon inclined his head respectfully.  “Sire, perhaps it might be best if you were to remove yourself from the room while we extract him.”

Arthur wanted to protest, but he had no desire to listen to Merlin spit bile at him anymore.  A thought occurred.  “Wait.  I know you said you didn’t want to knock him out again, but is there some way to at least make him quiet?  If anyone hears him, they’ll want me to kill him for treason.”  Of course Arthur was the king and no one could force him to, but everyone would look at Merlin suspiciously for months after this, wondering what spell he had put on the king to make him spare him.

“Don’t worry, sire,” Percival said softly.  “We’ll take care of him.”

Arthur fled the room then, retreating to Gaius’s chambers.  The physician would return there eventually to do his promised research and to fetch the sedative.  Arthur wanted to be there when he did.

There was a book open on the table.  A multi-headed snake with a large round body sneered up at him from the pages.  Arthur couldn’t read the ancient text, but he guessed this must be the creature inside Merlin.  He shuddered.  How could such a thing be put into a human body?  Why would anyone do it to Merlin?  At least it explained why Merlin had been healed.  Morgana needed him to live to go to Camelot and kill Arthur.

He wondered once again what else Merlin might have gone through while in her clutches.  Hadn’t he had the thought himself about how much servants knew, and Merlin especially?  Morgana had lived in the castle for nearly her entire life and had no need for information about the best routes to infiltrate the citadel, but Merlin could tell her the new security measures, nobles that could be influenced against him, when Arthur would be out of the castle with a minimal guard.  Any evidence of torture could have easily been hidden when she healed the shoulder wound.

Gaius entered the door.  He didn’t look surprised to find Arthur waiting for him.  “Sire.  Merlin has been locked in the cells as you ordered.  Percival and Leon have relieved the guards there so they won’t overhear anything he might say.  They’re setting up a rotation with Gwaine and Elyan as we speak.”

“What are we going to do, Gaius?  I can’t keep him there forever.  If Merlin is truly determined, he’ll find a way out.”  It was sad but true knowledge that Camelot’s dungeon was far from escape proof.  Merlin had proved that an alarming number of times himself.

“Bear in mind I haven’t had time to fully research this, but my books say that any offspring of the fomorrah, even the ones implanted in a slave as Merlin is, can be killed by destroying the mother beast.  That’s the creature from which its head was cut.”

“Like in this picture?”

“Yes.  Unfortunately, we must assume the creature is with Morgana, and she will not give it up easily.  That’s assuming we can even find her.”

“Merlin would know,” Arthur pointed out, somehow sure.  “Not that I expect him to want to tell us, but if we can put the snake to sleep as you said…”

“It’s unlikely he will hold the memories of his time under the fomorrah’s influence, but it’s the best hope we have right now.”  Gaius went to his shelves and began to prepare the poultice to sedate the creature.  “We won’t have long once the fomorrah is asleep.  Even if I use the most powerful potion I can while not harming Merlin, one day is all I can promise.”

“When the time comes, it will have to be enough.”

Arthur followed Gaius down to the dungeons.  “I’ll give him enough now so you can at least speak to him about what he remembers,” the physician said.  “This is a dangerous mixture; I fear overdosing if I start him with too much too quickly.”

Arthur didn’t want to ask what scale Gaius was planning to use to work Merlin up to a day.  He feared they wouldn’t have that kind of time.  Who knew what kind of damage this mind control was doing to Merlin’s brain?  If they left it too long, who knew if there would be any of Merlin left to save?

When they reached the cell, Leon, Elyan, Percival, and Gwaine were waiting for them.  Merlin glared at Arthur from his position chained to the wall.  Now that he had been found out, the servant didn’t seem to care about hiding his animosity.   Arthur could feel his heart dying with every second he saw that abject hate in his friend’s eyes.   _It’s not him.  You have to remember this isn’t Merlin._

Merlin- the fomorrah- sneered as Arthur unlocked the gate.  “You have come to kill the boy?”

“I’d much rather kill _you_ ,” Arthur shot back.

“The old man tried that before.  Fomorrah cannot die.  Your attempts will only make us stronger.”

“Perhaps you’d better have a chat with your host.  He’ll tell you we don’t give up.  If I have to cut you out every day to get him back I will.”

“The boy is no more.  We are all that’s left.  You cannot save him.”

“You’re lying.”  He had to be.  Arthur couldn’t lose Merlin, not like this.  “Merlin’s in there, fighting you.  You could have stabbed me in my sleep this morning, but you didn’t.  That’s because he wouldn’t let you, isn’t it?”  He was taking a wild guess, searching for even the smallest sliver of hope, but for some reason he was sure he was right.

“The boy fights,” the fomorrah admitted, lips curling up in a cold smile.  “He tries to keep us from his power.  He will fail.  And when he does he will be broken, and you will be dead.  Magic will reign and my mistress will rule us all.”

Gwaine apparently decided this was a good time to step in.  “Much as I’m enjoying Sally the snake’s bedtime story, I’d rather talk to my mate now.”

“Indeed,” Arthur stepped aside to allow the physician through.  “Gaius?”

Gaius strode forward, holding forth the cloth soaked in the sedative.  The fomorrah thrashed about, doing his best to keep the cloth from touching him.

Arthur winced as he saw the blooming redness trickle down his friend’s wrists.  “Someone hold him down before he hurts Merlin!”

Percival –gently- crushed Merlin’s body to the wall so Gaius could dab at his neck. Then suddenly he went lack, and Percival lowered him carefully to the ground.  Arthur hurried forward, tapping his friend’s face.  “Merlin?  Merlin, can you hear me?”

Merlin’s eyes fluttered open and he slowly raised his head.  Arthur held his breath nervously, but the only emotion on Merlin’s face was pure confusion.  “Ar-Arthur?  What’s going on?  How did you find me?”

“I’m afraid you were the one who found us.”  Arthur admitted.  So he didn’t remember what was happening.  That wasn’t very helpful for saving him, but at least he wasn’t suffering.  And that meant he wouldn’t remember Arthur accosting him in his chambers.  “Do you know where you are?”

“I’m- Morgana!  Where is she?”  Merlin glanced around frantically, searching for the witch.

“She’s not here,” Arthur soothed.  “You’re in Camelot, Merlin.”

“But then, why…?”  Merlin took in his surroundings and the manacles around his wrists.  He paled.  “What did I do?”

Arthur smiled wryly.  “You finally made good on your threats to kill me.”

That was the exact wrong thing to say.  Merlin looked like Arthur had just slaughtered his mother in front of him.  “I- I wouldn’t!  Please, Arthur, you know I would never-“

“Shh, relax, Merlin.  I know you wouldn’t.  Morgana’s enchanted you.  Do you remember anything about your time with her?”

“She- she fixed my shoulder… and then she had this snake thing…”  Merlin trailed off as he racked his brain for details.  “I don’t know after that.  I’m sorry, next thing I remember is waking up here.  Did I really try to kill you?”

“You poured acid in my bath.”

“And poisoned his lunch.”

“And tried to shoot him with a crossbow.”

“The key word is _tried_.  You didn’t hurt me, Merlin,” Arthur assured him as Merlin looked closer and closer to panicked tears.  “Morgana put that snake thing inside you.  It’s controlling your actions.”

Merlin wrenched his arm to try to scratch frantically at his neck.  “Well get it out!”

Arthur grabbed hold of him to stop him causing further injury.  “We can’t.  Gaius tried, but it just grows back.  But we’ve found a way to shut it up for a bit.  I need you to think, Merlin.  Do you remember anything about how you got to Morgana’s hideout?”

“I- I was unconscious on the way there.”

“Was there anything you noticed?  Was it a castle?  Were you in a town or isolated?  Maybe you saw a plant or a bird?”

Merlin closed his eyes as he thought.  “It was in the woods.  Some kind of tiny cottage.”  His eyes flew open.  “I saw arnica on a shelf.  I think we had to be near the castle.”

“Then we won’t have to search long.”  Arthur turned to his nearly forgotten audience.  “Leon, prepare patrols.  No one is to engage-I don’t want to scare her off-, but I want that cottage found.”

“Yes, sire.”  Leon and the knights trooped out, leaving Arthur with Merlin and Gaius.

“The fomorrah is going to wake up soon, Merlin.  I want you to keep fighting its control.  But more than that I want you to protect yourself first.  If you have to retreat to stop the serpent hurting you, do it.”

“What if I hurt you instead?”  Trust Merlin to be more concerned for Arthur’s safety when he was the one being possessed by an evil snake.

“You won’t,” he promised.  Arthur couldn’t help but grin.  “Even if you somehow break out of here, you dissolved my sword in acid, so I doubt you’ll be able to use it against me any time soon.  I’m taking a new one out of your wages, by the way.”

Merlin dropped his gaze.  “Can I talk to Gaius alone for a minute?”

“Of course.  I’ll be back as soon as you’re done.”

It didn’t take long before he was being called back.  He was grateful to see Merlin now looked far calmer.  Arthur sat back down and talked to him, chatting casually about his day and the non-murderous parts Merlin had missed.  Merlin protested that he had far more important kingly things to do, but he didn’t want to leave his friend alone one second before he had to.  It was obvious after a while that Merlin was having to fight to retain control.  Eventually, though, he couldn’t hold it back, and the fomorrah’s cold glint took over.  Arthur jumped when Merlin's body suddenly lurched forward, and before he could get out of the danger zone he ended up with a bloody nose from Merlin’s hard forehead.

The fomorrah laughed as Arthur clutched his face.  “We did try to warn you.  Did you have a nice talk?  We hope you took the chance to say goodbye.  We will not give him up so easily again.”

 

* * *

 

Arthur had taken to brooding in his chambers. Gaius forbid him from going to visit Merlin except during the few times he would put the fomorrah to sleep.  The times in between were far too long for Arthur’s comfort.  Merlin, too, was looking more and more discouraged and increasingly exhausted each time he was brought out of his mental trap.  Four days had gone by without results.

_“I can’t fight it off much longer, Arthur.  I’m trying, but I can’t.”_

_“It’s okay, Merlin.  I told you, we won’t let you hurt anyone.”_

_“You don’t get it!”  Merlin’s eyes bore into his, pleading and serious.  “If I can’t- If the time comes, I want you to do what you have to do.”_

_Arthur didn’t like what he was implying.  “Merlin-”_

_“I mean it, Arthur.  Please.  I can’t… Just… please.”_

Arthur had his men scouring the forest day and night for Morgana’s hut, but thus far to no avail.  He wasn’t sure how she could possibly be hiding an entire house in the the middle of the woods, but somehow she had managed it.  Probably through magic.

There was a knock on the door, and he wearily called the visitor in.  Gaius entered, looking just as tired and stressed as Arthur felt.  Merlin may not have been trying to kill the physician, but he still had to watch as his ward struggled to fight for his mind each day.  While the knights searched for Morgana, Gaius had been searching tirelessly for a cure.  Other than the current impossible solution, however, he was just as unsuccessful.

It didn’t stop Arthur from hoping that he soon might.  “Anything?”

“I’m afraid not.  Not the way you’re hoping, that is.  I have another plan, but I fear you won’t like it.”

“What is it?”  At this point Arthur would do anything, no matter how unpleasant.

“I think Merlin might be able to lead us to Morgana’s hut.”

Anything but that.

“Are you mad?  Merlin’s able to surface for barely a few minutes these days.  He’s too tired and weak.  Not to mention he said himself he doesn’t remember where it is!”

“It may be that once we get Merlin out into the woods he’ll recognize something to jog his memory.  We can give him a larger dose to knock the fomorrah out for a day.  That should give him enough time to at least try to lead you back to where he was held.”

Arthur didn’t like it.  He trusted Merlin to do his best to help them out, but Merlin wasn’t the only one involved here.  If something went wrong, if the sedative didn’t hold…  It was risky, and not a risk he was sure he wanted to take.

“Don’t you think you should at least ask him first, sire?  You know Merlin would be willing to do anything for you.”

Yes he would, and that was the problem.  Arthur sighed, afraid he already knew he was going to lose this battle.  “Have you seen him today?”

“I have.  I brought him his midday, but the fomorrah still refuses to touch it.  I fear we might have to sedate it for longer periods of time anyway just to keep Merlin from starving.”

“Then I suppose… he can eat while he thinks about it.  If he says yes we’ll go tomorrow morning.  I want to be the one to ask him, though.  I don’t want him to feel pressured into this, and Merlin’s never had a problem saying no to me.”

They picked up a fresh meal for Merlin’s supper and headed down to the dungeons.  Arthur rehearsed his speech in his head the entire way, coming up with reason after reason that Merlin should say no.

It didn’t work.  Merlin said yes.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you absolutely sure about this?  You can still back out.  No one will blame you if you don’t want to do this.”

Merlin rolled his eyes.  “I’m doing it, Arthur.  It’ll be fine.  You have the chains, right?  Just in case?”

They were secure in one of Arthur’s saddlebags outside. He couldn’t bear to even look at them.  The thought of using them to tie up his friend was too revolting.  He nodded tersely.

Merlin had been nervous at first when Arthur put forth Gaius’s plan, insisting it was too dangerous, and what if he hurt Arthur?  Arthur had shamelessly fed upon that fear, doing his best to keep Merlin thinking as negatively as possible, but it quickly backfired on him as Merlin did a sudden about face.  Soon he was stubbornly determined to go through with the plan, provided there were heavy precautions to keep Arthur safe.

Those precautions included the thick manacles clasped around Merlin’s wrists.  Merlin had wanted ankle ones as well, but Arthur had put his foot down.  For one, it would severely impede their progress if Merlin couldn’t walk or ride freely.  For another, Arthur was _not_ chaining his friend up so completely like a common criminal.

They helped Merlin onto a horse in front of Percival.  Merlin was refusing to come anywhere near Arthur, flinching when the king reached towards him.  Arthur tried not to let it hurt, but he’d already been failing miserably at that the past few days, so what was one more thing to add to the pile?

Merlin pointed them in a general direction of where he knew arnica to be found.  It was the same direction Arthur and Gwaine had found him in, so at least that part of his memory seemed to be intact.  Every once in a while he would cock his head and shift their path a bit, but other than that he didn’t seem to have any major revelations.  Arthur could see Merlin growing more and more tired as the day went on.  The lag between questions and his answers grew larger, and Arthur was just about ready to order they turn back.

Then from his right came a rustling of leaves.  He threw up a hand to stop the others.  “Did you hear that?”

“Could it have just been a deer?”

Gwaine shook his head.  “Deer don’t make that much noise.”

The knights dismounted.  Percival helped Merlin to the ground -he’d been risking falling all day without use of his hands to steady himself -and nodded towards a large tree for him to hide behind while they crept forward to investigate.  The rustle came again, faster and definitely seeming to be circling them, but also definitely not a deer.

“Stay here, Merlin,” Arthur ordered.  “We’ll be right back.”

Arthur and the knights stalked quietly after the sound, looking around for any tracks that might signal what they had heard.  No trace could be found, however, and soon the noises stopped.

“It must have been just a deer.  Maybe a couple of clumsy youngsters or something.”  Arthur tried not to let his disappointment show that it hadn’t been Morgana.  “Come on.  We need to get back to Camelot before the sedative wears off.”

When they returned to the horses, however, they could see immediately that something was missing.  They had brought six horses, but only five remained.  Percival’s was gone.

And so was Merlin.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur had never thanked the gods more that Merlin was so terrible at hiding his tracks.  It seemed he had grabbed the horse and galloped away the second they were out of sight.  A few metres away they found the manacles lying on the ground, slightly charred for some reason and uselessly warped.

There had been no sign that Merlin was losing his time already.  Usually he said something; he could always sense when the fomorrah was about to take over.  Arthur would have thought he’d be even more cautious about it today, when there was less to hold him back.

There was another possibility, but Arthur really didn’t want to consider it.  Merlin had been so determined not to hurt Arthur.  Had been so sure that given the opportunity he _would_ find a way.  Had wanted Arthur to do whatever it took to stop that from happening…

No.  Merlin couldn’t have run away.  He had to know that soon enough the fomorrah would emerge again, and it wouldn’t matter how far away he ran.  Unless he was going to do more than running…

 _No_.  Arthur was absolutely _not_ going to think about it.

The tracks didn’t seem to be heading back to Camelot but nor did they seem to be heading anywhere in particular either.  Arthur hoped they were getting close.  Whether this was Merlin or not, the fomorrah _would_ emerge soon, and then they would have a hell of a time getting him back home.  That was if Morgana didn’t realize her pet had escaped and try to apprehend him first.

Arthur perked his head up as he heard a distant whinny.  A crashing through the trees far noisier than the rustling they had chased earlier grew louder and louder until a horse burst out in front of them.  Arthur recognized it as Percival’s immediately.  Unfortunately, however, the mare lacked her escaped rider.

“Do you think he fell off?”  Gwaine asked.

Percival shook his head.  “Betsy loves Merlin.  She wouldn’t have left him there.  Something had to have scared her off.”

“Then we’d best find out what that was.”

They picked up their pace, sure they had to be nearly there.  Without a mount, Merlin couldn’t have gotten far in his exhausted state.  Loud bangs up ahead caught their attention.

“Merlin!”

Arthur urged his mount forward even faster, terror for his friend overwhelming.  As he burst into the clearing, he spotted Morgana on a small hill, hand stretched out before her.  The target of her fury was a fleeing Merlin, something large clasped in his arms.  He was bleeding from a cut in his forehead, but otherwise looked no worse than when he’d vanished.

“Charge!”

The knights rushed Morgana.  Arthur knew they stood little chance of defeating her, but he hoped they could at least distract her from her target for long enough to let Merlin escape.  If it even was Merlin they were dealing with right now.  He couldn’t spare any further thought to that as Morgana simply shifted her hand to blast them backwards.  Arthur landed with a thud against a tree trunk.  Looking blearily around, Leon and Elyan had been knocked out, and Percival was struggling to his feet.  He couldn’t find Gwaine.

He couldn’t find Merlin, either, so at least his goal had been attained.  Morgana searched the clearing furiously for him from her vantage point, and Arthur could see the moment she spotted him.  She shrieked some combination of words, and her eyes flared gold.

Whatever she had intended, however, never had a chance to come to pass.  Out of nowhere a whirlwind appeared, rushing towards her.  Morgana threw out her hands to try to halt it, but the funnel pressed on, scooping her up and tossing her backwards like a stray leaf.

Wherever she landed, she didn’t get back up.

Arthur turned towards the spot Morgana had found Merlin and froze.  Gold faded from Merlin’s eyes as they locked with his.  The blood drained from Merlin’s face, and he only had a chance to mouth two words before he fainted dead away.

_“I’m sorry.”_

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur was slightly less torn about tossing Merlin back in the cell when they returned.  The newly discovered sorcerer didn’t awaken the entire way back.  If it hadn’t been for the dark circles around his eyes and the sheen of sweat on his skin, Arthur might have thought it intentional.

The object Merlin had been stealing from Morgana looked to be the “mother beast” Gaius had been talking about.  They didn’t know how best to destroy the thing, so it was lashed to Gwaine’s horse for disposal back in Camelot.  Arthur prayed the entire way back that what he’d seen was just a side effect of the possession.  It had to be.  The fomorrah was a creature of magic.  It made sense that it might be able to transfer such things to its host.

At least it made sense to Arthur, who was searching for any excuse at all.

None of the others made any sort of mention of seeing signs of magic.  Arthur half wondered if he’d been imagining things.  But then he would remember that whirlwind, that very _familiar_ whirlwind, and suddenly he knew he hadn’t been imagining things at all.

“Gaius,” he said softly as he watched the physician dump the multi-headed creature into his fire, “does Merlin have magic?”

The quickly hidden flinch was all he needed.  Before Gaius could come up with a desperate lie, Arthur interrupted, “I’m not… I’m not angry.  I understand why he had to hide himself.  I just want to know: how long?”  At least since Ealdor.  But had he been a sorcerer before that?  This whole time?

Gaius turned to him with fear-filled eyes.  Somehow he calmed his panic enough to motion Arthur to sit across from him at his table.  “Merlin has been able to do magic since he was an infant, sire.  For him it came as naturally as breathing.  Since he came to Camelot, he has been using his talents to protect you.”

Arthur snorted.  He didn’t need _Merlin_ to protect him.  Except… a vision of that wind blasting Morgana back flashed before him again.  “How powerful is he?  Would he be like… a high priest or whatever a male one is called?”

“Not exactly.  Women have always had more hierarchical status in the old religion, so there are no priests.  But yes, Merlin is powerful.  Far more than Morgana, despite them both coming into formal training later in life.  Why do you think he was so afraid while he was possessed?  One word and he could have killed you even trapped in that cell.”

“Why didn’t he then?”  Arthur couldn’t help the flash of irritation that the exact danger to his life had been kept from him.  “He had every opportunity to.”

“For the same reason that, as you yourself pointed out, he did not try to stab you in your sleep.  On the few opportunities I could speak to him, Merlin told me he was using all his energy to stop the fomorrah from gaining access to his magic.  So long as he kept the creature at bay, he could protect you.”

“Of course he was.”  The irritation switched targets and Arthur stood abruptly.  “He should be safe now, right?  No more assassination attempts?”

Gaius raised an eyebrow.  “I’ll need to remove the fomorrah husk, but yes, Merlin’s mind is his own now.”

“Good.”  Without another word he spun on his heel and stalked down towards the dungeons.

His knights were guarding as usual, but they walked away easily enough when Arthur dismissed them.  Gwaine even slapped him on the shoulder and said he better let Merlin out soon before he moped himself to death.  The servant was huddled in the far end of the cell.  They hadn’t bothered to lock him back in the wall shackles, though apparently that would have pointless even if they had.

The whole thing would have been pointless if Merlin had deemed it so.

Merlin glanced up as Arthur opened the cell door.  “Arthur, I swear, I never would have intentionally done anything to hurt you.  My magic is for you, just for you, I wouldn’t-”

“Oh shut up, Merlin.”

Merlin’s jaw snapped shut and he stared down at his feet glumly.  Arthur grabbed his chin and yanked it back up again.

“Next time you have the power to turn all of us into rats and toads, and the only thing stopping that from happening is the chance that you can keep your sanity long enough to kill whatever it is controlling you, I think I deserve to know about it.”

“Arthur-”

“And don’t you ever _dare_ think that the only way to keep the rats and toads at bay should you finally go completely mad is for me to kill you, because I swear, I will lock you up in here for the rest of your life and find you a pair of real rats for company.”

“Ehm, okay?”

“Now, you are going to go apologize to Guinevere for being rude to her, and then I expect you in my chambers immediately.  Cook has informed me that our ceremonial silverware is looking slightly tarnished.  I’m sure an eager servant like yourself who has had several days off is just itching to get back to work.”

“ _Days off_?” Merlin squawked.  “And wait, when was I rude to Gwen?”

“I won’t bother asking you to apologize to me, since I’d much rather take your punishment out on the spoons and forks than your addled brain.”

Merlin sobered quickly.  “I really am sorry, Arthur.  About everything.  The magic and fomorrah and the trying to kill you…”

Quite honestly, Arthur wasn’t even upset about any of that anymore.  But Merlin still didn’t remember the thing that _was_ upsetting him, and perhaps it was best if he never did.

“Just get to work, Merlin,” he said gruffly, then turned to leave.  He had been wrong about everything else about Merlin.  He had to be wrong about Merlin loving him too.

 

* * *

 

 

Merlin sat by the fire, working his way through the giant tubs of silverware he’d fetched from the kitchens.  Arthur did his best to ignore the way he kept glancing over at him nervously, occasionally opening his mouth to say something then snapping it closed again with a shake of his head.

Finally he apparently couldn’t take it anymore.  “I know you said you weren’t mad, but are you mad?  Because if you’re going to sack me, I’d really rather you do it now than draw out this torture.”

“Would there be any point to sacking you or would you just come back?” Arthur asked coolly.

“Come back?”  Merlin rolled his eyes.  “I like how you assume I would even _leave_.”

“Wouldn’t you?”  Arthur hated how seriously he needed to know this.  “If I ordered you from Camelot and told you never to return on pain of death, would you do it?”

“Of course not, Arthur,” he replied softly.  “I told you, my magic is just for you.  I was born to serve you.”

“But why?” he pressed.  “Why would you do that?”

Merlin cocked his head.  “I thought- Gwen said she _told_ you…”

“What, that you’re a jealous _girl_ and think I’m out to replace you?  That was a conclusion from the fomorrah, not you.”

Merlin just smiled and took a step closer.  “The snake didn’t get that from nowhere.”

“You really _are_ jealous of Guinevere?  I know she’s far more competent that you, Merlin, but you can’t honestly think I would choose her to be here to _dress me_.”

“It was more the _un_ dressing I was imagining.”

“More the-” Arthur’s mouth ran dry as he processed the words. “You- um- oh.”

“Yes, _oh_.”  Merlin stopped a breath away.  He laughed gently.  “ _Clotpole._ ”

Arthur probably should have reprimanded him for disrespecting his king, but his mouth was far too engaged with exploring Merlin’s to give thought to forming words other than one.

“Bed.”

 


End file.
